


Hard Feelings

by SilyaBeeodess



Series: Tales of the Fire Spirits [12]
Category: A Hat in Time (Video Game)
Genre: Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:22:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25948783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilyaBeeodess/pseuds/SilyaBeeodess
Summary: Vanessa's storm devastated all of Subcon Forest, including the lives of the various spirits who lived there.  In the initial fall, some desired revenge.
Series: Tales of the Fire Spirits [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1613302
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	Hard Feelings

They would have war.

  
The entire pod was looking forward to it. To the swamp spirits, it was high time conflict finally brewed between them and the Dwellers. They’d never forgotten how their territory had been pushed deep within the far recesses of the forest: No amount of peace talks or years of firmly guarded borders could stifle that long-held grudge. No one ever said it, but they longed for something like this, a single act worth the harshest of retaliation—an excuse to attack the mortals above without restraint.

Which came in the form of a violent storm. With only the barest of warnings—the feeling of a strong wave of magic passing through the wood—the surface of the swamp had frozen over with a thick layer of ice no amount of force could shatter. The rapidly freezing water was a shock to every creature that dwelled in its depths, and although there were no loses save for some of the wildlife, the spirits had needed to send a rescue party to drag the immobile guards into the boundaries of their deep, underwater realm. Even then, they lost a lot of plant life and it had trapped them for weeks.

  
Although they didn’t resurface often to begin with, the latter issue was enough of an insult to infuriate them, an invasion against their territory. They knew it had to have been the Dwellers’ rulers to cast the curse: Nearly all of Subcon’s spirits had sensed the powerful magic among them for generations now. No doubt the other spirits had been affected by the storm as well, and although none bore the same, subdued fury as those of the swamp, they wouldn’t take this act of treachery lightly.

The swamp spirit felt a cruel smile pull against his lips. Most likely, it would be a bloodbath. If the storm had affected their waters this badly, no doubt it had reached other spiritual realms connected to the forest as well. That didn’t even count those who lived within the forest itself. All of them were at risk and no spirit would show mercy where their territories were concerned. This was a betrayal to the decades of good relations both the spirits and Dwellers had tried to foster, and the latter would pay for it dearly. Then, once all was said and done, the spirits were bound to fight amongst themselves over whatever scraps remained of Subcon to expand the boundaries of their own terrain.

  
After the ice had thawed enough to break through, the people of the swamp had been ordered by their leader to take to the surface and strike back. They were weaker on land, but it didn’t matter. A small army of brackish warriors—wielding roughly carved spears, their long, slick tails splitting into pairs of mottled legs smeared with grime—climbed out of the water, stretched, and marched straight for the village.

  
They hadn’t expected someone to have already fulfilled their task of complete annihilation.

  
Even before they reached the first line of the Dwellers’ homes, the thick miasma that had already spread throughout the forest thanks to the sudden mass of deaths shrouded it in darkness. Pillars of ice were shot through the ruined structures, and the villagers were discovered only in the form of frozen statues—stuck forever in a terrified pose from their failed attempts to escape the danger. Whether or not there were survivors, they didn’t yet know, but clearly the storm had reached them first. The Dwellers never stood a chance.

  
 _So, the young queen attacked her own people…_ He couldn’t fathom the reason, but it didn’t really surprise him. There had been something wrong with that family for a while now—beyond the magic passed down through their women. Something about their very nature that was disturbingly ill. It could’ve just been an accident as well, but the kind of power that could cause such disaster required the drive to manifest it. Then was the queen dead as well? Consumed by her own magic? He didn’t know.

  
One of the others barked a short command, “Search!”

  
The group of soldiers divided, weaving through the chilled, foreboding streets and frozen corpses, looking for anyone who could give them more information on what had happened or that they could take out their unsatisfied vengeance on. It was several minutes before the swamp spirit paused, alerted by the scritch-scratch of claws on wood. He looked to the side and found a fire spirit in front of one of the ruined homes, having managed to melt enough of the ice that encased it to reach a small part of the door. It pawed at it fervently, but hopelessly: A knock that would never be answered.

  
It was putting it lightly to say that their two species had never seen eye-to-eye. At the most basic level, their opposing elements—fire and water—made them natural enemies. The foxes also were much closer to the Dwellers than the swamp spirits ever had been. It could’ve been a rumor—one that now looked truer than ever—but apparently, they even sometimes lived together. The idea of that kind of dependency made him cringe, but he wasn’t without sympathy. To the fox, it must’ve felt like it had been stabbed in the back by and then lost a dear friend.

  
It was giving up. The fire spirit sat on the step beneath it, ears dropping in a lonely way. The swamp spirit watched it in silence a second longer before approaching, the former so distracted by its own thoughts that it didn’t notice his approach until he’d stopped half a meter behind him. “There’s nothing for you here now,” he said, “You’ll need to start hunting for food elsewhere. Maybe even outside of the forest, if the ice stays long enough.”

  
The fox looked at him only for short moment, then gave a single nod. Although this one seemed plenty old enough to speak, it didn’t give any other kind of response.

  
He deeply exhaled through almost-flat bump—that made his nose. What annoying, sorry creatures: Overly reactionary, hardly thinking beyond the fun curiosities that came and went through its life, save for food and fire. This one in particular, tamed almost like a dog by often weak and dull beings as humans.

  
Well, he had no fight with it for the time being. The swamp spirit walked away. There was still ground to cover.

  
Soon enough, out of the corner of his eye, the fire spirit darted off toward the woods. What he didn’t notice, however, was the floating mask tailed by a bright, translucent glow of color that it chased after.


End file.
